


Dating the Cultural Stereotype

by julien (julie)



Category: due South
Genre: Episode: s01e06 Chinatown, Filling In the Gaps, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1997-01-07
Updated: 1997-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21859387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/julien
Summary: Ray and Fraser are eating dinner at a Chinese restaurant on a Saturday night… and Ray is ninety percent certain that it’s a date.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Vecchio





	Dating the Cultural Stereotype

**Author's Note:**

> **Notes:** This piece is set amidst episode 106 CHINATOWN. 
> 
> **First published:** 7 January 1997 in my zine Pure Maple Syrup 4

# Dating the Cultural Stereotype 

♦

It was a date, a dinner date on a Saturday night. Well, Ray Vecchio was ninety percent certain that this was a date, but with Benton Fraser around sometimes it was difficult to be sure of anything.

Demonstrating his uncertainty for those sharp Mountie eyes, Ray had dressed casually though attractively, in slacks and a long-sleeved polo shirt. All muted dark shades that enhanced his natural coloring but did not distract from whatever physical assets the Mountie might generously perceive. And, after all, Ray was only eighty percent sure it was a date, so he hadn’t wanted to overreact with a formal suit.

In contrast, Fraser was resplendent in his dress reds. But that could mean anything or nothing – Fraser wore the uniform all the time, knowing he looked good in it.

Likewise, the Mountie’s behavior could mean something or anything or nothing. There he was, pulling out all the stops and impressing Ray by reading the menu which was in Chinese. Then he was actually relating personal information to Ray about his grandparents, from whom he’d learned the relevant language, Mandarin or Cantonese or whatever the hell it was. But then Fraser promptly ruined the mood by fretting over the wolf, who’d been left outside. _I mean_ , thought Ray, _if a guy takes you on a date he could at least pay attention_. Diefenbaker was a wild animal, and everyone with the notable exception of the Mountie knew that the wolf could take very good care of himself.

Oh, _surely_ this was a date…

Well, whatever it was, it got interrupted, and Fraser performed his Flying Boy Scout act by climbing out of the window… Ray really should expect this kind of thing by now.

It seemed that the son of one Mr. Henry Lee, the restaurant owner, had been kidnapped. Fraser had heard what was going on, and had leapt out the window just in time to see a car speeding away. This led to humiliations galore, because as luck would have it Huey and Gardino answered Ray’s call for back-up, and they were understandably skeptical about Fraser’s credibility as a witness.

‘And you saw this kidnapping from across the room,’ Huey was asking, ‘through the pagoda, and around the corner, right?’

‘No,’ the Mountie replied, ‘I heard it.’

‘And did you happen to _hear_ the license number, too?’

‘No, no. The license plate was obscured by mud.’

Ray almost groaned. How the hell could Fraser say these things with such a straight face? It was as if the guy didn’t have the slightest clue how crazy he sounded. Ray managed to laugh it all off until the Duck Boys gave up and went home – but as soon as they were alone again Ray turned to Fraser and angrily demanded, ‘OK, have you humiliated me enough for one night?’

So much for the dinner date.

♦

Much to Ray’s surprise, Mr. Lee visited the police station the following morning in order to take up the Mountie’s offer of help. The old man knew who was to blame for David Lee’s abduction – one Charlie Wong, the young and hungry crime boss of Chinatown. Ray listened to the story, knowing this would be a sensitive and difficult case, but confident that he and Fraser had every chance of safely recovering the man’s son.

Jack Huey and Louis Gardino, belatedly realizing that an actual crime had taken place, wanted to muscle in on the action. That was little more than an irritation; Ray could cope with that. But then the situation really turned bad; two suits from the FBI wanted to take over, on the grounds that kidnapping was a federal offence. The three Detectives, the Mountie and the two Special Agents all ended up in Lieutenant Welsh’s office arguing at the top of their collective lungs over who should work the case.

‘Sir, perhaps I can be of assistance.’ Fraser began a long spiel on confusion in Canada, while Ray looked on proudly and everyone else listened with dropped jaws. ‘The key that we have found is in compromise,’ Fraser concluded, after providing a great deal of information on a bewildering variety of people all with differing languages. ‘I would suggest that we devise a plan that would use everyone to the best of their abilities.’

Sounded damned fine to Ray.

‘This man knows nothing about police-work,’ Special Agent Ford said flatly. ‘Get him out of here.’

Welsh acquiesced. ‘Vecchio, please…’

Ray sighed. He and the Mountie were off the case. That was bad – and not just for Ray’s arrest record.

Fraser tried to reassure a baffled Henry Lee. ‘Put your trust in the law.’

Sometimes Ray had to wonder if Benton Fraser knew what the hell he was doing. It was the FBI guys in their off-the-rack suits who didn’t know anything about police-work. ‘They couldn’t even find Waldo if they took the book home for the weekend.’

♦

Well, apparently Fraser wasn’t done yet. Despite having managed to extract himself and Ray from the loop, the Mountie was still keen to progress the rescue of David Lee. Ray tagged along behind him, up and down the corridors of the police station, pleasantly surprised that by-the-book Benny was prepared to work without official sanction.

That was the thing about Fraser – there was always an air of mystery about him. Since the Mountie had come to Chicago, Ray never knew what was going to happen next. The man was fascinating, and confusing as hell. Ray was forever trying to puzzle out which bits were the substance of Benton Fraser, and which pieces were the Super Mountie act. Lately, the latter was becoming more and more over-the-top, as the former was gradually revealed. Well, that was Ray’s current theory. With Fraser, a guy just never knew…

Because the Mountie kept doing crazy unexpected things, like… like… dragging Ray into the station’s broom closet and sitting him down. Honestly. There was Ray, perched on an up-turned bucket, knee-to-knee with Benton Fraser. In a closet.

When Diefenbaker growled from the corridor, Fraser let him in. Why on earth would the wolf want to be in here, too? Especially today of all days – the wolf was still upset over being excluded from the restaurant last night.

‘No. No, _three_ in a closet is where I draw the line,’ Ray announced. This was a timely reminder, though – Ray figured that in the unlikely event of him getting anywhere with Fraser, Ray would need to clear the matter with the wolf. All this aloof lupine behavior could drive a guy nuts.

Meanwhile, apparently the Mountie didn’t care about the location of Ray’s putative lines. Somewhat impatiently, he asked, ‘Would everyone please settle down? I’m trying to listen.’

Ray sighed, and asked the stupid question. ‘To what?’

Well, it turned out that Fraser was trying to re‑create the sounds of the kidnapping, in order to identify and pursue any clues. Great. Why was this Ray’s life? He felt the swab of something damp across his wrist.

‘I’m sitting in a dark closet with a Mountie, being licked by a deaf wolf.’ Ray frowned, and asked suspiciously, ‘It was the wolf, wasn’t it?’

_Pause_. _Pause_. ‘Yes, Ray.’

‘Oh, thank God,’ Ray blurted out.

Ah, he could kill Fraser for that pause. But, no – if he did that, Fraser wouldn’t suffer enough. Maybe Ray should just kiss the man – yeah, that would show him. Maybe he should lean over right now, grab that absurdly handsome face in both hands, and kiss Benton Fraser to within an inch of his life…

Humiliations galore. Elaine Besbriss opened up the closet door, and light flooded in on the two men sitting there. ‘Hi,’ she said brightly.

‘Hi,’ said Fraser.

‘Hi,’ said Ray, feeling really _really_ stupid. Luckily he’d barely lifted his hands to go with that impulse of his. God, maybe the Mountie’s craziness was catching.

‘I saw you guys come in here,’ Elaine continued.

‘Ah. Well, we were just, um…’ Even Fraser was lost for suitable words.

Elaine looked at Ray, eyebrows raised. He shook his head in reply, wearing his best sheepish expression, endeavoring to indicate that she didn’t want to know. That was one more woman to add to an already extensive list of impossible love-matches for Raymond Vecchio.

Of course Fraser made everything worse. Gazing quite seriously up at Elaine, he asked, ‘Have you ever heard of a sound that goes _Doo-ush_ … _Doo-ush_ …?’

Eyebrows rising in bewilderment, Elaine walked away, leaving the closet door wide open. _Great_ , Ray thought – time to make his escape.

OK, so Ray had long ago established that the Mountie was mysterious, but Fraser currently seemed to be at his most weird and infuriating. Ray began reading the man the Riot Act as they both strode down the corridor – the main clause of which was, ‘No more listening in closets, OK?’

‘I’m _sorry_ , Ray.’

Fraser sounded genuinely apologetic, though that didn’t necessarily mean he was sorry about what _Ray_ wanted him to be sorry about… Unfortunately, the Mountie interrupted him just as the cop’s tirade was really beginning to warm up.

‘Ray. Ray, please.’ Fraser came to a halt, and waited until Ray also stopped. An appeal from those earnest blue eyes, as he said, ‘I can’t have the _both_ of you sulking.’

And Ray just melted inside, though all he gave Fraser was the tersest of nods. Imagine that – Fraser treating Ray like he was the third member of a family. _Yeah_ , Ray thought, reaching for a sardonic attitude, _or of a wolf pack_. The heck with being sardonic – Ray was almost a hundred percent certain now, that last night had been a date. Almost.

Fraser had turned back to address Diefenbaker. ‘Well, are you coming?’ he asked with some measure of impatience.

Dief cast a stare at the Mountie that returned the impatience ten times over, and then the wolf trotted off in the other direction.

Poor Fraser seemed quite wounded by the exchange. This, Ray assumed, was the human beneath the hero.

♦

The Mountie soon cheered up, though, once Ray had driven him back to Chinatown – where the two of them attempted to track the kidnappers’ Lincoln Town Car through the alleyways behind the shops and restaurants.

The Riv went through a pothole, still full of last night’s rain, and Fraser paused for a moment before announcing, ‘We’ve picked up their trail.’

Further down the alley, tire tracks led into another pothole, where the Lincoln had swerved sharply. The tailpipe had run aground, leaving a scar in the asphalt. _Great_. A few yards round the corner, Fraser found (wonder of wonders) a piece of dry mud. What was it with the Mountie and _mud_ , for God’s sake?

‘The license plate was intentionally obscured,’ Fraser told Ray, crouching there on the ground. ‘Now, this piece must have fallen off when they hit that bump. And do you see this?’ Fraser turned the mud over to reveal indentations. ‘This could be the negative image of a three.’

Ray remained skeptical. That was his role in this partnership, after all. ‘Yeah, or a five or an eight. In other words, we’re nowhere, the trail is over, and we’ve got zip.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Fraser stood up, and lifted the mud far too close to Ray’s nose for comfort. ‘What does this smell like?’

‘Mud.’

‘And what else?’ the Mountie persisted.

‘Mud, and…’ _OK_ , Ray thought, _I can make a fool of myself here_. ‘Fresh towels?’

‘Exactly.’

Well, this was actually kind of fun. Ray followed Fraser over to yet another pothole-puddle. Fraser crouched down again, broke a piece off the mud, and dissolved it in the water.

‘What are you doing?’ Ray cried out in exasperation. ‘That’s the only piece of physical evidence we have!’

‘Ah, but do you see these white flecks?’

Flecks which were floating on the surface. ‘Yeah, so…?’

‘Watch this.’ The Mountie put his hand in, and agitated the water – which foamed up into bubbles.

‘Soap!’ Ray declared in surprise. Which explained the smell of fresh towels. Who’d have thought it?

Ah, Benton Fraser might be at his most irritating right now, but he was also at his most bewitching – taking Ray along with him on this trail of clues, making it an adventure…

Ray was soon using his cell phone to call Elaine. ‘How many Chinese laundries are there right on the river bank?’

‘Why,’ she responded sarcastically, ‘are you two having trouble squeezing into a booth?’

_God_ , Ray thought – _she knows_ … Well, at least that gave them something in common. The two of them, and the rest of the world, were half-in-love with the Mountie. ‘Elaine…’ Ray complained, trying to interrupt her soliloquy on the trials and tribulations of being unappreciated. ‘The _laundry_ , Elaine?’

♦

Fraser and Ray located the laundry, and busted in that evening, but the kidnappers were long gone. The trouble was, the building was soon surrounded by thugs in flak-jackets – and Ray and Fraser were sheltering from the FBI’s not-so-friendly fire.

There was nothing to do but wait it out. Ray melted all over again, though, when he felt Fraser’s nearest hand clasp his reassuringly. The Mountie stared off in the direction of the main gunfire, face stoic, almost as if they couldn’t possibly be under attack from their own people, and he couldn’t possibly be holding Ray’s hand.

Crazy damned Mountie. Crazy sweet damned Mountie.

♦

Unfortunately for all concerned, the Feds’ hail of bullets had now alerted all of Chinatown to the fact that they were on the case. Under the circumstances, Charlie Wong may well decide to carry out his threat of executing David Lee, and have done with the whole thing. Once the relevant law enforcement officers reconvened in the squad room, Ray did not stint in telling Special Agent Ford exactly what he thought of him.

Henry Lee and his wife burst in during the yelling match. They were scared as hell, as well they might be, and as unimpressed by Ford’s actions as everyone else. The situation went from dismal to utterly hopeless when it became apparent that the FBI had brought Charlie Wong himself to the police station for questioning.

Ford explained himself: ‘It’s time to take the bull by the horns.’

‘Vecchio’s right,’ Welsh announced: ‘you’re an idiot.’

But Ford did not deign to reply before heading out to the interrogation rooms.

Lee began walking slowly up to Fraser, advancing on him with the look of a man who could not yet believe what terrible doom had befallen him. ‘You’ve done this to me,’ Lee pronounced. ‘You’ve killed my son.’ And then he and Mrs Lee walked out, too.

Fraser had stood tall throughout this emotional assault, but Ray (who was the man’s best friend, after all) could see the tears brimming in those remorseful blue eyes.

‘You didn’t blow up Chinatown,’ Ray said, trying to take the sting away: ‘the Feds did.’

‘I led them there,’ was the calm reply. ‘I did this.’ And, with the weight of David Lee’s death on his soul, the Mountie left the squad room.

Ray watched him go, his heart breaking for Fraser’s pain. Well, there was something Ray could do. He turned around and strode into Lieutenant Welsh’s office. He didn’t bother shutting the door, he didn’t bother asking for a moment of Welsh’s time – Ray just stated his demands.

‘I need this one, sir!’

‘Come on, Detective, you know I can’t do that.’

_The hell with this jurisdiction bullshit!_ ‘The Fed’s a horse’s ass. The kid will die because of him.’ Ray leaned forward, both fists on Welsh’s desk, and he said with quiet intensity, ‘I need this one.’ _I need it for Benny_.

Welsh didn’t say anything: he _couldn’t_ say anything. He just stared back at Ray, the Lieutenant being as mulish as his Detective.

Fine. In frustration, Ray thumped one fist against the desk, and then he walked out, slamming the door behind him. If Welsh wasn’t going to give the case to him – and if Welsh wasn’t going to warn him off, ask for his shield – then Ray was just going to go out there and do what he had to do.

♦

Fraser was standing at a window down the corridor, gazing reflectively and no doubt sightlessly at all his perceived mistakes. ‘Come on,’ Ray said, gently leading the guy up the next flight of stairs.

‘Where?’

They went to the men’s room, and listened to the conversation in the interrogation room below through a convenient piece of broken piping. Here was Ray, sharing all his secrets with the Mountie.

‘But we’re eavesdropping, aren’t we?’ Fraser asked in worried tones.

‘I’ll make sure they take your merit badge away later,’ Ray reassured him.

After a moment, Fraser said, ‘What’s that?’

‘What?’

‘It sounds like _tick_ … _tick_ …’

Ray could not believe this guy. ‘Will you stop that?’ he pleaded, beginning to fear for his own sanity.

‘Yes, Ray.’ And they both bent a little closer to the pipe, endeavoring to hear Ford and his sidekick question and threaten Charlie Wong.

_Jeez, I love this guy, I love Fraser, I really do_ , Ray distractedly thought for a moment – but he still decided about ten times a day that it would be best for them to be nothing more than friends.

♦

The Feds got nowhere with Wong. Of course. In fact they made things even worse (which Ray wouldn’t have thought was possible at this stage) by telling him that Lee was prepared to testify against Wong in relation to charges of racketeering. Christ, threatening this powerful man with a twenty-year jail term, when he held all the cards…

Wong said, ‘You have no witness.’

And it was evident to everyone except maybe Ford that Charlie Wong would make it so. Both Henry and David Lee would soon be dead.

Wong’s lawyer showed up, and that put an end to the most disastrously inept interrogation Ray had ever eavesdropped on.

Which left the interrogation room free for Fraser and Ray to examine for clues…

Apparently the _tick_ … _tick_ … had been Charlie Wong trimming his fingernails. Fraser retrieved the clippings from the floor, and began tasting them. _Gross_. But it was worth it, for he found traces of low-grade gunpowder under the nails.

‘Do you do this a lot?’ Ray asked. Well, OK, he knew Fraser tasted things a lot – but not usually _this_ much. In fact, much of his behavior lately had been of the _Look at me!_ variety. Could there be some reason Fraser wanted Ray to be particularly focused on him right now…? Putting that beguiling thought aside for the moment, Ray continued, ‘Do you often try to solve cases by gnawing on ammunition?’

‘Well, I admit it is a calculated risk, Ray. But…’ Fraser said, looking up solemnly, ‘I am a professional. This is not for amateurs.’

♦

On their way out, Ray and Fraser encountered the long-absent Diefenbaker. It seemed that the wolf had adopted a new human – he trotted by at the side of some uniformed policewoman, whom Ray did not recognize. Dief did not deign to acknowledge either Ray or Fraser.

‘Hello… Hello,’ Fraser called after the wolf, before finally turning away, hurt once more. Poor guy.

It seemed Ray’s new family unit was down to two.

♦

Mrs Lee told Ray and Fraser that Henry Lee was going to meet Charlie Wong in one hour at a particular Chinatown nightclub, in a last effort to bargain for David’s life. Add that location to the low-grade gunpowder under Wong’s fingernails – the kind of gunpowder used in fireworks – and the two cops were soon on their way with the intention of intervening. No one was trying to fool themselves that Wong would deal fairly or reasonably with Lee, so Ray and Fraser’s first priority was to rescue David, and thereby take him safely out of the equation.

They found the kid bound and gagged in a room full of fireworks… A fight ensued with the four thugs there – during which Fraser would not allow Ray to fire his gun, for fear of setting a spark to the gunpowder. Old-fashioned fisticuffs had to suffice. Following the main event, Fraser went chasing off after one of the thugs who’d gotten away from them.

Once Ray ensured the others were subdued, he and David ran to deal with the next crisis – Henry Lee’s confrontation with Charlie Wong at the nightclub below the fireworks store.

They got down there to find Lee sprawled back on the street, and Wong standing aiming a gun at him, about to shoot. Ray didn’t think twice. His gun was already out, Ray went with the flow of instinct, fired – and Wong’s gun went flying out of his hands.

David went to help his father up, to embrace him, while Ray frisked and cuffed Charlie Wong. _Wow_ , thought Ray, _look Ma no hands_ …

Meanwhile, apparently, Dief helped Fraser to capture the thug he’d been chasing. The three of them showed up outside the nightclub to find the situation under control.

It was all over, and everyone was safe.

As the Lee family reunited, weeping in each other’s arms, Fraser and Ray and Dief looked on with some pride and a wealth of good feeling. It was quite the tear-jerker.

Above them, always a step or two behind, the FBI Agents and Detectives Huey and Gardino all burst into the room where David had been held. And began firing at will. So, the happy ending was set to fireworks, as well it should be.

Everyone in Chinatown poured outside to marvel at the display. Colors burst brightly overhead, explosions resounded, the sharp exciting smell of cordite filled Ray’s nostrils. The mood was one of unbridled celebration.

It soon became clear that neither Fraser nor Dief was prepared to apologize to the other, but it seemed they both wanted to put their differences aside, so Ray figured that relationship must be on the mend.

Ray handed Charlie Wong over to Special Agent Ford, once the other law enforcement officers had filed sheepishly down onto the street. Ray said, ‘You can take it from here, right?’

Ford managed to contain himself. He stared turbulently at Ray, and eventually said very simply, ‘Thank you, Detective.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Ray walked back to Fraser, and the two of them wandered off side by side. Ford and the others were watching them go, no doubt chagrined and confused in various measures. ‘He wants me bad,’ Ray commented. ‘Don’t you think Ford wants me?’

‘Wants you for what?’ Fraser asked.

Ray rolled his eyes. ‘ _This_ from the man who keeps dragging me into closets…’

Effectively changing the topic, Fraser said, ‘Shouldn’t we stay and fill out some reports?’

‘No, we have to leave them _something_ to do. Isn’t that fair – we get the sense of a job well done, they get the paperwork?’

‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ Fraser actually seemed quite satisfied with that. ‘Nice shot, by the way,’ he commented. ‘Knocking the gun out of Wong’s hand. I was impressed.’

‘I thought you would be.’ Ray knew he sounded every bit as satisfied as Fraser.

‘You were aiming for…?’

‘His chest.’

‘Oh. I think I should, er, adjust your sights.’

‘I’d appreciate it,’ Ray said, wondering if that was some kind of elaborate metaphor. ‘Are you hungry?’

‘Yes.’

‘I know a nice little place just around the corner.’

The Mountie turned to him and said, ‘Then, let’s resume our interrupted dinner engagement, Ray.’

‘Dinner engagement,’ Ray repeated flatly. This could be flirting, that could have been a dinner date, but who ever knew with Mounties?

‘I believe an appetizer is in order, however.’ Fraser was looking about him – and then he abruptly headed off, in that focused manner he had, absently beckoning Ray to follow him.

They were halfway down an alley, the fireworks still bursting red and gold and green and blue overhead, before Ray thought to question where he was being led this time. ‘Fraser…?’

‘Here, Ray. Over here.’

And when Ray caught up with the man waiting in the shadows, Fraser framed Ray’s face in both hands, and kissed him. On the mouth. Ray was almost too surprised to appreciate the beauty of it. Afterwards they stood for a while, contemplating each other, Fraser gently rubbing his thumb-pads along Ray’s cheekbones.

‘Benny? Are you adjusting my sights for me now?’

‘Yes, I suppose I am, Ray.’

‘Oh, that’s all right, then.’

‘What’s all right?’ The man’s voice was delightfully hoarse with yearning.

‘I couldn’t figure out whether you wanted me or not.’

‘Of course I want you, Ray. But you yourself seemed… ambivalent.’

‘ _Me_ ambivalent?’ Ray protested. Apparently Fraser couldn’t resist dropping another kiss to Ray’s lips, lightly this time. When he was freed again, Ray admitted, ‘OK, I guess I was. A bit. On occasion.’

‘But now you want me,’ Fraser whispered firmly.

Ray murmured, ‘Oh yeah…’

Nevertheless, the Mountie asked, ‘You’re sure, Ray?’

‘I can’t _not_ want you, Benny.’ Ray smiled at the man. ‘Come here and do that again…’

And they kissed, moving easily into each other’s arms, as yet another box of rockets exploded skywards. It was almost too perfect to be true. Almost.

♦


End file.
